


High and Dry

by bastet_lives



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (usual Hydra warnings), Crying During Sex, Dehumanization, Dissociation, Edging, Fucking Machine, Happy Ending, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Masturbation, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Pregnant Sex, Sex Toys, Winter as not fully formed personality ...yet, smut bingo, talk about abortion (implied), talk about child murder (non-graphic), using sex as distraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:27:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24864520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastet_lives/pseuds/bastet_lives
Summary: By some bureaucratic mistake, the files pertaining to Project: Cerberus were never digitalized. Nor did anyone inform Arnim Zola - or what was left of him - of the Project. So when the lab with the paper files burned down in an unfortunate incident, there was no concrete evidence left of the Project.That fact would come back to bite the Asset - Sergeant Barnes, James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky - in the ass.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 72
Collections: Stuckony Server Bingo Collection





	High and Dry

**Author's Note:**

> So, once again, this is much longer than it was intended. I wrote this for the 16+ Stuckony Discord Server and its Smut Bingo. To be more exact, I wrote it for the Square C5: Pregnant sex.
> 
> Also, thank you for your encouragement and for looking over this for me, Sunshine ([ABrighterDarkness ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness) ) !

The Asset was rarely in possession of its full faculties when activated. It always required a period of 408 minutes to be completely functional. It was able to open its eyes only 79 minutes after activation. During those first 79 minutes, however, it was still aware and capable of processing its surroundings on a cognitive level.

There was a 86.95% probability that neither its handlers nor its owners possessed knowledge of that fact. This might be the reason why the technicians preparing it weren't as silent as they usually were.

"Man, this is insane. Like, if someone did this to me, I'd straight up kill them."

"Ha, bloody ha, Greg. You can't even swat a fly. Heh, I've seen you cry at puppy videos. Puppy videos!"

"They're very cute, okay?! How are you supposed not to cry at their fugly paws and big eyes and stumpy tails..."

"Seriously, are there tears in your eyes? Urgh, and that's why I won't ever believe you can kill anyone..." 

"I'm offended, you've offended me. But for real, why would they put that into a man? That's just all kinds of wrong." 

"Oh, sometimes I forget you're new. First, the Asset isn't a man. It's a weapon or... Or an attack dog, yeah, that's a nice way of putting it. Second, the powers that be want more Assets." 

"Aren't there easier ways? You know, it has a dick." 

"Can't use it. It's kept on a chemical cocktail to leash its base instincts. Would be a darn shame if a target got away because it thought with its cock. And they tried artificial. But any results of that either died or had no traces of the serum. Useless trash."

"Still, kids."

"Mutts, Greg, mutts. You put down mutts, so we did, too. But we still want new Assets. So a new approach is attempting to have the host possess the serum."

"That's why you implanted a fully functioning uterus into it?" 

"Got it in one. Not this time, we'll have to check for compatibility and if everything works as intended. Oh, fudge, it's waking up..." 

The technicians fell silent and the Asset felt its reflexes respond and its body turn on. 

After completing its mission, it had to endure a lot more tests than usual before being turned off. It also earned a session on the Chair when it asked one of the technicians what an uterus was and why one had been installed into it.

The Asset forgot the question. It forgot the conversation between the technicians. From then on it always woke up to silence. 

It didn't know but it never heard the technician Greg's voice again.

  
  


* * *

They called it ‘Project: Cerberus’. It must have seemed funny to them; their attack dog was supposed to breed more attack dogs for them, more little three-headed monsters for the multi-headed Hydra. It became less funny fast.

Their first problem was the conception. While the organs they had implanted were working, the Asset was still more or less chemically castrated. Unfortunately, this seemed to apply to its new organs also. But when they lowered the dosage, the Asset refused to be bred. By killing anyone that tried.

So they bypassed the natural way and inseminated the Asset artificially. They had to try it multiple times until the semen took. By that time the Asset had been defrosted for almost a year, without a mission and without the Chair. Add that to suddenly becoming a mother-to-be and knowing there was life growing within it - something they couldn’t hide from the Asset - and they should have anticipated the result.

The Asset killed all its technicians and escaped. Furthermore, it even managed to kill its handlers despite the handlers using the words they had been given. They had to send in someone with superior code words. However, this led to the termination of the fetus.

After they recalibrated the Asset in the Chair and put it on ice for three months, they repeated the experiment. In spite of less time unfrosted, the results were the same with the added grievance of losing a few handlers higher up in the food chain.

Nonetheless, they attempted breeding the Asset again and again. The end was always the same. When Director Pierce took over, he cancelled Project: Cerberus. The projected gain wasn’t worth the cost, he said, especially because they’d have to waste precious resources on raising the new Assets first. But it would be too risky to let the Asset do the training and conditioning, lest it would break free of its programming.

By some bureaucratic mistake, the files pertaining to Project: Cerberus were never digitalized. Nor did anyone inform Arnim Zola - or what was left of him - of the Project. So when the lab with the paper files burned down in an unfortunate incident, there was no concrete evidence left of the Project.

That fact would come back to bite the Asset - Sergeant Barnes, James Buchanan Barnes, _Bucky_ \- in the ass.

* * *

Another new day, another damn morning spent crouched over the fucking toilet seat puking out the remains of his soul - for the seventh damn day in a row. Bucky knew he had the knock-off serum instead of the premium one but it should have damn well been able to prevent him from getting sick. He wanted a refund.

A whine slipped out of his mouth as a hand started rubbing up and down his back in methodical circles. Bucky twitched, uncertain whether he should press his face into the coldness of the toilet seat or lean into Tony’s soothing motions.

“Tasty Freeze, just because I call you that doesn’t mean that you had to overindulge,” Tony whispered.

It wasn’t funny but Bucky chuckled anyway. This proved to be a mistake. The tickling at the back of his throat caused him to retch once again.

"Jeez, you're puking more lately than Peter after gobbling down a couple of peppermint candy canes last month."

“Gee, very comforting.”

Tony snorted, pressing himself against Bucky’s side. “Not my job,” he said while kissing up Bucky’s throat and to the edge of his jaw. When Bucky pushed him away, Tony made a noise like a kicked cat.

“I’ve just _vomited_ , Doll. You can’t tell me you’re wanting to kiss me.”

“I always want to kiss you. But yeah, wash out your mouth before I do.”

Bucky threw back his head and rasped out a laugh. Miraculously, the need to retch didn’t return this time. It actually felt good to laugh. The longer he laughed, the more his nausea fled.

His laughing must have turned hysterical because Tony turned his head to stare at Bucky with worry lines overlapping Tony’s laugh wrinkles.

Shaking his head, Bucky grinned at Tony and straightened up. “I’m fine now. Let’s get off the bathroom tiles.”

When Bucky wanted to stand up, however, Tony clung to his arm and stayed on the floor. Bucky ticked an eyebrow.

“Are you sure you should? Stand up, I mean.”

“I said it, didn’t I? I’m fine.”

“You say you’re fine with your arm locked up and ripping your entire nervous system apart. Forgive me for not believing you.”

While it was sweet for Tony to worry, Bucky was fine, now. Whatever ravaged his system only acted up in the morning. (Sometimes over the last week Bucky did have to quickly find a toilet or sink during the day, too. But he attributed those times to smelling whatever horrific experiment Clint decided to put into his vibranium stomach that day. Those things weren’t fit for human consumption. That was one reason why Bucky didn’t believe that Clint was unenhanced. Bucky was from the Great Depression and he’d hesitate to put the stuff Clint ate into his mouth.)

“Doll, sweetie, I’m _fine_. Want me to prove it?”

Tony opened his mouth but Bucky stole his chance to answer by lifting Tony’s entire body just with his flesh arm. While Tony was stunned in breathless awe, Bucky proceeded to nibble up Tony’s throat.

Distracting Tony by fucking him stupid was one of Bucky’s favorite tactics of shutting Tony up.

* * *

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the end of the conversation. Oh, Bucky had distracted Tony quite thoroughly. When Steve had come back, he’d laughed at Tony’s glassy eyes, high whines and jerky, uncoordinated movements. Which resulted in Tony pouting and goading Bucky into shutting Steve up. It wasn’t hard. Bucky just had to tackle Steve and ride him hard.

After their morning rounds of sex, their day had split. Tony had to go downstairs and put out fires in R&D while simultaneously working on new products. Steve had recently signed up for an art college and had to bring in some art pieces. 

His own day was spent at the pet shelter nearest to the Tower. Bucky liked handling the animals and most animals liked him as well. Only the animals that were the most hurt disliked him. But they also respected him. Most didn’t try biting his metal arm more than once, at least.

One time Bucky had to hurry to the bathroom. Once again he spent about ten minutes feeding the toilet something else than its usual cuisine. That thought had made him snort. He regretted it. Vomit rushing through your nose _hurt_.

Maybe that was the reason why Bucky didn’t anticipate the ambush waiting for him at the Tower. He had trudged into the elevator, muttering about stupid people sneaking tuna sandwiches into a pet shelter to feed the cats. Mayonnaise wasn’t inherently bad for cats but a lot of their cats had sensitive stomachs or health problems.

Bucky noticed something was wrong a heartbeat before hands grabbed him. The elevator had stopped, the doors in front of him shut. And the elevator hadn’t gone up, but _down_.

The hands grabbed him from _behind_. The elevator had been empty when he stepped into it.

But any thoughts of struggling fled immediately. He smelled _Steve_ and Steve had always meant safety. The strain of his arms being manhandled behind his back and the click of handcuffs snapping shut screamed danger, though. For a moment the conflicting sensations rendered Bucky mute.

When Steve threw Bucky over his broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes, however, Bucky found his voice.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Shhh.”

Steve’s hushing just pissed Bucky off. If Bucky hadn’t been starting to feel queasy again, he’d have shown Steve who exactly had taught the crushing-the-head-of-your-enemy-between-your-thighs-maneuver to the Black Widows. Newsflash, it was Bucky who had taught that and could still do it better than any of his students.

But the swaying motions coupled with the sight of the floor moving reignited his urge to lose his lunch. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut to stave the urge off.

A short while later Steve stopped, swung Bucky around and put him on a mattress. Judging from the feel of the mattress - neither like the ground nor like a cloud - Bucky was put onto one of the med-bay’s beds.

He still kept his eyes shut. Breathing in for four seconds, holding that for five and breathing out for six seconds helped calm down Bucky’s stomach after a couple minutes.

“Bucky?” It wasn’t Steve who called him with uncharacteristic tentativeness in his voice, but Tony. 

Before Bucky cracked an eye open, he lightly tested the handcuffs. From the way they didn’t even creak, they must have consisted of Vibranium. Which meant Tony had been involved in the ‘let’s kidnap Bucky in his own home’ scheme.

Immediately honing in on both Steve and Tony, Bucky glared at them and snarled. Both Tony and the nurse standing at his side flinched back but Steve only tilted his head.

“Close your head, jerk. You’ve been vomiting every day last week as though you dipped your bill the evening before and found out you couldn’t pay. You need a doctor.”

“Uhh, I’ve got no idea what our Cap just said but I’m agreeing. Please.” Tony’s voice shook. “Let them check you out.” 

Bucky pressed his lips together, tucking in his teeth behind his lips. He hated doctors. He hated being poked at. Steve was glaring at him, though, and Tony…Tony sounded like he’d be devastated if Bucky refused to let himself be checked out.

“If this ain’t revenge for me forcing you into bed rest when you were small,” Bucky grumbled at Steve before nodding at Tony.

The nurse inched closer and when Bucky didn’t move, stepped forward and started setting up a machine at the side of his bed. Her hands barely shook when she started attaching nodes to his skin.

“You’d deserve it. Always nagging at me but when you’re as sick as a dog, biting everyone’s head off and letting no one close.” Steve’s tone was utterly unrepentant. “We’re worried, you jerk.”

“I told ya, I’m _fine_. How often am I supposed to say that?”

Tony cut in before it could devolve into a bickering match. “I’d feel better if we had evidence you’re fine. Right now everything points the other way.” Grimacing he added, “I don’t like it.”

Rolling his eyes, Bucky sighed but acquiesced. He let the nurse manhandle him and answered her inconsequential questions. Two hours later after a lot of random questions and numerous tests, they still hadn’t got any definite results. In the end, the nurse’s recommendation was to call in Dr. Cho because she had received no logical results.

Tony’s eyes convinced Bucky once again. But the world allowed him a reprieve. Upon calling Dr. Cho, she stipulated that the earliest date she could swing by the tower was in three days. 

To his lament, Bucky also spent the following three days hanging over the toilet seat when the sun rose or he smelled a sortiment of things. The one thing that upset him the most was that he had to run to the bathroom when Tony made his special hot chocolate for Bucky. That hot chocolate was one of the only things Tony could cook but it was more than decadent. Tony also refused to share the recipe, so Bucky always had to wait for him to make it.

And now Bucky couldn’t have it. He might have destroyed three of the reinforced anti-super soldier sandbags in retaliation.

Dr. Cho sauntered into the Tower at exactly noon. Within twenty minutes of her arrival, they were in Tony’s lab instead of the medical hall. By they, Bucky meant Dr. Cho, Steve, Tony, himself and, for some reason, Bruce.

“I panicked, okay,” Tony mumbled. “I’ve asked Bruce to look over the data and he insisted, _insisted_ that he’s present for this.”

“Why?”

“Because if Helen confirms my assumptions,” Bruce cut in, entirely too cheery and visibly _vibrating_. “Then I definitely want to be here for this.”

They all stared at Bruce for a while before Dr. Cho shook her head. “Well, don’t let us make Bruce wait.”

“The only reason why I am here doing these tests is because of my experience with the enhanced community, although there are better people for that,” Dr. Cho idly commented while she was recreating the nurse’s tests. She was much faster than the nurse had been.

During all those tests Tony sat almost stockstill in his chair while Steve prowled around the lab like an agitated lion knowing there was something wrong with his Pride. Steve had always done that when there was something off but he couldn’t do anything about that. Granted, when he was small Stevie, that prowl had been his usual walk.

One hour later, Dr. Cho frowned while looking at the holograms with the test results. They were floating around her until she waved her hand through them. 

“What’s wrong with Bucky?”

“Oi, punk, that’s still a lady. Calm down with your bossy, obey me tone.”

Steve flushed at Bucky’s admonition and he flushed even a deeper red when Tony snickered.

“Thank you, but I am able to defend myself. Science is still a predominantly male field, after all,” Dr. Cho said. “Well, your results, Sergeant Barnes, make no sense. You have somehow less testerogen than you should have. However, your estrogen levels are through the roof. Prolactin is also rather high, which makes absolutely no sense. You’re not obese, your metabolism actually ranges on the other end of the spectrum. It works too well instead of not enough.”

Completely befuddled, she shook her head with thin lips. “This is not like any disease or sickness, I know. There is not enough evidence to point towards _one_ disease. To be honest, if you were a woman, I’d ask you to take a pregnancy test.”

Bucky hacked out a laugh. “This didn’t tell us anything, is what you’re saying-” He was interrupted by Bruce shoving three pregnancy tests underneath his nose.

“Take these. Now. Tony has a bathroom down here, I know that,” Bruce ordered. 

“Are you shitting me?”

“Uh, Big Green, you know, Bucky’s a man, right?” Tony said. He was staring at Bruce like he was a maniac, which, for Tony, was saying something.

“Not big right now nor green, although that could easily change. Anyway. Bucky.”

Bruce’s eyes shone with manic glee. What could it hurt? Bucky could pee on some damn sticks to satisfy Bruce. They’d end up negative, anyway.

* * *

That’s what he had thought. But now he was standing in Tony’s strangely tiny bathroom and holding the instruction manuals of the sticks in one hand, the completed tests in the other. Each of the three told Bucky that, apparently, he was pregnant.

_But for real, why would they put that into a man?_

_That's why you implanted a fully functioning uterus into it?_

Bucky swayed, mouth dry all of a sudden. Those two questions had hammered into his brain with the familiar feeling of memories coming back to him. Somewhen over his time in Hydra someone had said those words around Bucky. And they had been referring to Bucky.

His eyes hushed down to his stomach. Putting the instructions and the tests into the sink, Bucky hesitated for just one second. Then he rolled up his shirt until he could see the bare skin of his flat stomach. Only … when he looked closer, Bucky realized it wasn’t that flat anymore. _His stomach wasn’t flat anymore._

It had a small pouch. Hadn’t he been looking for something, he could have easily overlooked it. 

Swallowing, Bucky knew that the possibility of the tests being wrong had jumped to less than 1%. Because apparently, he was capable of getting pregnant. Who knew. 

Out of sorts, it stepped out of the bathroom.

“And?! Where are the tests? How did the tests go?” The scientist was immediately up in its face looking for the tests it had completed. 

Flinching at the proximity, it reported. “In the sink. They are positive.”

Chaos erupted around it. Voices yelled all around it, most of them male. It didn’t move a muscle waiting for it to be acknowledged.

“Quiet,” a female scientist cut in. That was rare. Usually all the staff for it was male. “Something is wrong with the Sergeant.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” one man said. He wasn’t dressed like a scientist. A technician, then, it deduced by the stains on the man’s hands. A whiff confirmed they were oil stains.

The only other man left in the laboratory was neither a scientist nor a technician. He must be the Handler. It turned towards the Handler and waited for instructions.

Strangely enough, the Handler paled and swayed on the spot. “Oh no, Bucky…”

“What, what’s happening?” the technician asked, sitting up straight at the Handler’s words.

“He’s…I don’t think it’s really a flashback, more like, regressed mentality? I don’t know…”

“Fuck, he told me about that, back at the beginning. Dissociation. Just. God, no one make fast moves and no one tell him something that comes even close to an order. Anyway, uhm, Asset?”

The Handler gasped out a strangled “Tony.” 

It moved its head towards the technician, even while keeping its eyes on the Handler. “Ready to comply.”

“Okay. So, in a moment we’ll go up to our room.” Oh. Was it going to be punished? “When Bucky’s back, can we meet again, Helen?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here,” the female scientist replied, shifting. She was uncomfortable, more than tense. Flight risk? “I’m not an obstetrician.”

“I am,” the male scientist chirped. He was too happy. He’d not last long, either.

“Wait, what? Well, doesn’t matter. I’d still appreciate you staying for a while Helen. Maybe my labs can tempt you? Asset, please follow me?”

The technician got up and walked towards the elevator. It automatically fell into step but threw a glance back. The Handler was following as well.

They all travelled up to an enormous room with a bed. It stiffened. It couldn’t ever remember punishment happening on a bed but it wouldn’t have been surprised if the Chair had stolen that memory from it. No, it had wiped the memory if it ever happened.

To its surprise, the Handler crawled onto the bed first. When the technician prompted it to do the same, it did. As soon as it was in reach, the Handler grabbed the Asset and pulled it closer to his body. 

Even more surprising was the technician jumping into the bed as well and moving forward on his hands and knees. He turned around before pressing his back to its chest.

“Sleep now, hunny.”

The Asset felt its face twist as it clarified. “The new designation is ‘Hunny’?”

For 26.3 seconds there was silence before both Handler and technician snorted. It felt the vibrations against its back and its front. The vibration against its back increased as the Handler hummed.

“You’ll accept any name?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm, how about Winter instead of Asset?”

It blinked. “Understood.” Somehow it deemed Winter to be more acceptable than Asset. It should have no opinion but…but it _liked_ Winter.

Something pressed against Winter’s head, soft against his scalp. “Let’s go all to sleep,” the Handler whispered before he elaborated. “Just close your eyes, relax and dream.”

Winter closed his eyes.

* * *

He was cocooned in warmth. Usually Bucky liked being warm but being trapped right now was inconvenient. Because his damn stomach was acting up again. It didn’t help that his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton _and_ cotton candy. Everything felt fluffy and sticky - and not in the fun way.

Bucky wriggled out of Steve’s arms and squeezed past Tony, ignoring Steve’s sleepy whine. On deer legs, he stalked to the bathroom. When he was finished, he rinsed out his mouth and laid his forehead against the cool surface of the mirror.

The last day had flooded back into his mind, up to the point that he discovered that the positive tests were plausible. Then everything faded away. The problem was Bucky knew the cotton head feeling. He used to have it all the time after just having escaped Hydra. But since Bucky was neither in chains nor locked away nor drenched in blood, he chose to remain positive.

Positive.

God, he might be pregnant. If Bucky was pregnant, either Steve or Tony was the other parent. Or knowing his luck, both of them. There was this thing he’d read the other day while clicking through wikipedia.

What should he freak out about first? 

The fact that Hydra left another mark on his body? Unlike his arm, Bucky couldn’t exchange that part of his body with one made by Tony. Something like that hadn’t ever belonged _in_ his body.

Or should he freak out about his blackout and going into Soldier mode? Although, so far it looked like the Soldier had behaved himself. So, that was actually one thing that he could check off the freak out list. 

But the pregnancy thing might be the biggest thing to freak out about. Unless Bucky did something about it, he was going to be a father. Well, mother, but the point still stood. Not even during the pre-wars days, when Bucky had slept through half Brooklyn in an attempt to get Steve out of his system, had he thought about becoming a parent.

Bucky swallowed before letting out a harsh breath. It takes two, or three in this case, to tango, he thought. Communication. Communication was a thing. He should talk with Steve and Tony. 

He stepped out of the bathroom and right into the path of two concerned gazes. Oh wonderful, they were both awake.

Instead of addressing the elephant in the room - or the bun in the oven - Bucky smiled. It was a bit wobbly but it was a smile. “Heya, loves, did you have some nice dreams? I bet I played the leading role.”

To Bucky’s surprise, Steve played along. “I always sleep well with you in my arms.”

“Sap.”

Steve grinned. “Always.”

“Yes, yes, very cute. You okay, Bucky?” 

For one second Bucky considered lying but. Communication. “Nope, not really.”

Without thinking, Bucky jumped and bounced right onto the bed. What he hadn’t noticed was that Tony had been close to the bed edge. When Bucky bounced onto the bed, Tony was thrown off the bed with a surprised wail.

Steve and Bucky leaned over the edge to watch Tony just lay on the floor, blinking befuddled. They stared at each other, blinking in complete silence, before they cracked and started laughing.

The tension that had crept into the room left it like a balloon after it was poked with a needle. Laughing together was exactly what they had needed. 

Once their laughter had tapered off, Steve and Bucky dredged Tony back up the bed. Bucky pulled Tony to his chest and pushed his back to Steve’s chest - basically, they slipped back into the position they had slept in.

Blanketed like that, Bucky’s bones almost vibrated with safety and warmth. “I could be pregnant,” he shakily said. “Dunno what to do about that.”

Tony’s hand reached behind him to thread his fingers through Bucky’s. “Would it be bad if you were, Hunny?” 

Bucky didn’t know the answer to Tony’s question. Would it be bad?

“I,” Steve breathed against Bucky’s ears but stopped. Steve hesitated, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. He shuddered as though he was steeling himself. “I’d be happy, actually. Even back when I was small, I’ve always wanted a child.”

Bucky huffed out a surprised noise. None of the memories he had recovered had hinted at Steve ever wanting children. In fact, some of his memories suggested the exact opposite. He didn’t know how many had small Stevie shaking his head and saying that he wished no one would ever inherit his issues or variations of that statement.

“But,” Steve continued, one of his hands settling around Bucky’s hips and squeezing as well, “it’s your decision, Buck. I’d like a child, yeah, but I don’t want to be your motivation for going through a pregnancy you don’t want - especially since we've got no idea what will happen to you during the pregnancy.”

“Oh, you’re both such a help.”

Steve and Tony both chuckled before Tony led Bucky’s hand to his mouth. Tony gently kissed the palm before laying his cheek into it. “In the end,” Tony said, “we’ll abide by your decision, because it _is_ your body. So yeah, we’re helping.”

Sighing, Bucky closed his eyes and sank into the comfort of being between his lovers. He’d sleep on it.

* * *

Three months later, Bucky would like to revisit that moment and tell his younger self that he shouldn’t think about it, that he should decide to try out a pregnancy later and actually _plan_ for it. Otherwise younger Bucky would regret it.

Well, no, that was a lie. While it had been a doozy getting used to the thought that he could get pregnant and was, it hadn’t been as difficult as expected. In fact, over time Bucky had discovered that he was excited about raising a child with Steve and Tony.

(The charity event two months ago had no influence on that. It hadn’t warmed him from deep within to watch Steve bend down to talk with bone-thin children and leaving them with big, toothy smiles. It hadn’t made him giggle to watch Tony guide Peter through that event, a hand on the teens back or shoulders and an encouraging squeeze whenever Peter stumbled. Both these instances had no influence on Bucky feeling better about his decision to keep the child in his body. Not at all.)

But Bucky could have done without feeling bloated. Or feeling like he was losing all his muscles. And he actually was. Mainly because Steve wasn’t letting him exercise because ‘it’s bad for the baby, Buck!’ 

The morning after he had announced his decision to keep the baby, Steve hadn’t let him out of bed claiming he had to rest. Unlike now, he hadn’t even been truly showing. Thankfully Tony had stepped in and even haggled with Steve to allow Bucky swimming.

At the time, he’d been quite cross with both of his lovers. Remembering it made him cross _now_.

Bucky took a deep breath.

Another thing Bucky found out as the pregnancy progressed was that emotions were so much more intense now. And that he could switch from one end of the spectrum to the other pretty fast.

A grin stole itself on his face. Tony had learned that when he made a teasing remark regarding Bucky’s stomach once Bucky was starting to round out a little. That remark had earned Tony a pillow to his face. Bucky had made sure that the buttons would leave an imprint on Tony’s face. Because Tony had had a meeting just minutes after making that remark, he’d been sitting in a work meeting with red dots visible on his face. When Tony had been pouting in the evening, Bucky had been so sorry, he’d cried. Which had sent Tony into panic mode and ended in a great cuddling session.

Just remembering that replaced any anger with mirth. Tony had been so cute. Steve also was downright cute whenever he was the victim of Bucky’s quicksilver moods. He’d never tell them but sometimes he only pretended to switch gears that fast. It was adorable watching how they acted and jumped to reassure Bucky.

However, the reason why he’d tell his younger self to think about it, the real reason, was that the last time Bucky had sex was when he had distracted Tony from asking about Bucky vomiting. (Thank God, that had actually stopped happening a couple weeks later. Bucky had been on the verge of killing everyone in the Tower.)

Neither of his lovers had touched him in a more intimate way than intense cuddling or innocent kissing. They acted as though a firmer touch could break Bucky or his baby. This wasn’t the case, even Bruce had shrugged and said if Bucky’s pregnancy was anything like a woman’s, then there should be no problem with them having sex.

Had Tony or Steve listened to professional advice? Of course not.

If neither of his lovers were going to fuck him, Bucky would have to do it himself. 

Unfortunately, Bucky had never owned a sex toy. By the time he’d felt ready for sexual exploration, of himself or others, he’d been in a relationship with Steve and Tony. And why waste money or time on toys when Bucky had two perfectly willing men to get down and dirty with him?

Natalia had been surprisingly helpful. Yesterday he had ranted at her, bitterly complaining about how he was perpetually horny yet also perpetually unfucked. This morning he’d found a package full of different-flavored lube, two egg-shaped vibes connected by cords which were supposed to go onto his dick, a pregnancy pillow and a fucking machine with a mold of Steve’s dick attached.

Bucky wouldn’t ask Natalia how she got that mold - or why she had it. He’d just enjoy it.

Making sure he’d be alone was easy. 

Steve was out of the Tower, looking at cribs. (Steve had immediately clamored for that right. To be fair, Tony hadn’t known he should because the father buying a new crib was a Barnes’ tradition. Such a thing wouldn’t have made its way into the history books, which focused more on Captain America than his sidekick, anyway. Bucky wasn’t even mad.) Pepper had informed him that he wouldn’t see Tony before dinner because she’d be dragging him through some back-to-back meetings.

By the time he had set up the pillow and the fucking machine, Bucky’s hands were shaking in excitement. He was already fully hard, which made it easier to slip the vibs onto his cock. To his surprise, the cold metal against his cock grounded him somewhat and he plopped onto the pillow. After lathering the fake Steve-cock in lube, he adjusted the machine to rest directly against his hole.

Bucky leaned back, wriggling to get comfortable against the pillow while still keeping the dildo against his hole. He checked that he had the remote for the fucking machine on one side, the one for the vibes on other side. Both were in reaching distance.

He hesitated before only flicking on the vibrators on his cock.

And groaned as his cock was surrounded by motion and vibrations. The vibrators weren’t changing their speed but it felt like they were going faster and faster, beating a staccato rhythm onto his cock. Bucky’s head filled with white noise. Spots started to fill out his vision.

Soon the initial pleasure faded. It was replaced by pain crawling into his nerves. The transition was so slow that it took Bucky a moment to realize. Then he scrambled for the remote and accidentally crushed it between his metal fingers.

Cursing up a storm, he reached down, annoyed by the swell of his stomach, and just ripped off the vibs. Apparently, tearing apart the cord between the two egg-shaped things caused the vibrators to stutter sadly before becoming still. Bucky glared at them before throwing the broken toy into the corner.

More apprehensive now, Bucky settled back into the pillow. A second later he sat up and applied once again lube to the dildo. He also quickly prepared himself. Originally, Bucky wanted to be fucked open by the machine but…his reaction to the vibes made him exercise a little more caution.

Bucky turned on the machine and groaned as it immediately punched forward, burying the dildo almost entirely into Bucky. Before he could pat himself onto the shoulder for forward thinking, the machine was sliding the dildo out of his body until it was just on the edge of his rim. It pushed forward.

Quickly, Bucky’s world narrowed to the push and pull of the dildo. It wasn’t waiting for him, it just kept pushing him higher and higher, the dildo dragging along his walls. It helped that his body knew the shape of the dildo intimately - he had taken Steve’s cock often enough. Bucky shifted and yelped as the machine pounded directly into his prostate, each strike a star exploding in his gut.

Whining, he tried to buck - the thought of ‘Bucky bucking’ let a breathless giggle slip between his whine - but the machine didn’t give him the time or room to do it. Bucky was forced to lie there and just take what the machine was giving him. 

His breath hitched as the machine suddenly changed its rhythm, punching in fast and deep, slowly drawing out, inch by inch. But whenever Bucky tried following the dildo, it thrust back in, leaving him a half-melted mess.

The pleasure wound him up higher and higher. The closer he got to the edge, the quieter he got. Just as he was about to crest, tip over, _finally come, oh yes_ , just then he felt the bed dip and the machine stop as the remote was flicked off.

Bucky keened once before his eyes snapped open. Without the stimulation, the pleasure was ebbing and farther from coming. All thanks to Steve kneeling beside him and holding the remote to the fucking machine. Tony was staring at Bucky from the door, hands grabbing the frame tight enough for the knuckles to turn white.

“Bucky, what the hell,” Steve choked out with dilated eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Doing your job,” Bucky snarled, eyes on the remote. Only the tip of the dildo was still in him but Bucky was sure that it would take no time at all to get back to business.

“But-”

“No buts, you twinkie-turned-dorito, I wanna come!” Bucky’s grab for the remote failed as Steve drew it back. Bucky might have been distracted by Tony’s snorted laughter.

“Huh, hey Cap, I think Bucky bear here is ahead of us. Really, we should punish you,” Tony idly commented as he let go of the doorframe and sauntered over to Bucky and Steve. “When all my meetings were cancelled, I got to talking to Sweet, Tall and Dirty.”

While he was speaking, Tony crawled onto the bed until he was settled near Bucky’s knees. “And, you know what, I showed him some statistics. Pregnant women, bigger sexual appetite, totally fine having wild monkey sex even at 7 months.”

Tony’s fingers stroked over Bucky’s skin - from the hip, over his stomach, past Bucky’s drooling dick - and probed at his occupied hole, rubbing around Bucky’s rim. 

Tony pressed a kiss to Bucky’s knee and continued talking. “So we’ve talked, and I managed to convince our Dorito that your increasingly short temper may be due to horniness. And we could take care of that. Honestly, it didn’t take me long.”

“You’re talking like I’m not missing making love to our Buck,” Steve interjected. He took hold of Bucky’s pillow with one hand, slipped his other arm around Bucky’s torso and with a burst of strength replaced the pillow with himself. Bucky had hardly felt himself move.

Just as Bucky wanted to drawl that Steve had a funny way of showing that, he had to swallow his tongue. The fucking machine had whirred into action without warning and started pounding away, Tony’s fingers still circling Bucky’s rim. Tony’s other hand settled on the curve of Bucky’s stomach.

The fabric of Steve’s pants rubbed roughly against Bucky’s ass when Steve arched up and grinded his still covered cock against it. Bucky hissed but his breath was caught by Steve tilting Bucky’s head and slanting their lips together.

Bucky loved losing himself in Steve’s lips. He liked kissing Tony as well but there was something that sang in his soul when Bucky put his lips on Steve. It was like getting caught within the tides - up and down and all around. Exhilarating, in short. Kissing Tony was a low simmer that led to a nuclear reaction. Both amazing but in different ways.

The dildo was ripped from his body. Bucky didn’t have time to complain - not that he could, connected to Steve by his lips - because Tony stuffed three fingers into his hole without any hesitation. At the same time Steve did _something_ underneath Bucky.

And then, for three horrible seconds he was empty. Bucky didn’t even know that he could still feel empty. A pleading whine built up in his throat and was punched out of his chest and into Steve’s mouth as Steve started fucking him.

Steve was so much better than the toy. He was warm, throbbing inside of Bucky. The friction was better, Steve’s veins catching onto Bucky’s rim and walls, lube and sweat guiding their way. Steve’s arm around Bucky’s torso was just as grounding as the vibs had been but a thousand times better.

When Steve left his Bucky’s lips, he latched onto his nape, nibbling and licking. It didn’t take long at all to drive Bucky up the wall again, to bring him to the edge of coming.

Bucky cried out, wetly, as a calloused hand closed around the base of his cock. He literally started tearing up when Tony bent down and scraped his teeth over Bucky’s balls. Steve chuckled leaning up to lick the tears away.

“Aww, honey, you crying for us?” Steve stopped moving, a solid but unsatisfying heat within Bucky.

“‘S your goal, ain’t it?” Bucky slurred, once again driven from the precipice. “Making me cry. And wait. Like I haven’t done enough of that.”

“Oh, you’ll get off, baby momma, I’m gonna promise you that,” Tony said.

His stomach was preventing Bucky from actually seeing Tony’s face but he didn’t have to. He’d seen it often enough taking on that razor sharp wit. Bucky was about to be teased until he’d go insane.

There was no pleasure in being proven correct, Bucky decided three almost-orgams later. One time he had come, but dry. While Steve just kept fucking him, Tony tugged at his balls, scraped his nails along Bucky’s thighs and blew hot air over his cock. Of course, that felt good but it was like being slow-boiled over a pool of lava. Tortuous.

By now, Bucky’s sight was blurred by tears and only high-pitched noises were escaping his mouth. He caught another sob between his teeth as both Steve and Tony put a hand to his rounded stomach.

“Honey, darling,” they both cood, Bucky couldn’t even keep their voices apart anymore. “This last one, okay?” Bucky just nodded, he was a live-wire.

Steve grinded up into Bucky’s prostate. What was new, though, was the wet heat closing around Bucky’s cock. It was tight, wet, moving, constricting, providing blissful friction. It didn’t let up.

Bucky was driven to the edge again, tears dripping down his face. He expected the pleasure to cut off, left to simmer.

It didn’t. He was driven to the edge and _over_ it. Bucky’s twitched and trembled, coming and coming until his vision was covered in tiny black dots. When he finally came down again, he was between Steve and Tony. Both of his lovers were patting Bucky to ground him and had one hand each on his stomach.

Sometime between Bucky coming and becoming aware they must have cleaned him up. His entire body was relaxed and for the first time in months, he was _sated_.

“Love you, two,” Bucky croaked before signing and closing his eyes.

“We love you, too,” they whispered, pressing against Bucky’s side.

Everything was good. Bucky was safe and warm, surrounded by his lovers.

**Author's Note:**

> That one sentence Steve says with weird phrases is 1920s slang. 'Close your head' means 'shut up' and 'dip the bill' means 'have a drink' but I played around with the meaning of bill.


End file.
